Ataxia
by LesbiQueen
Summary: Fic for SaraGeneris on Tumblr. "Matthew knew who this was. He would never forget those eyes he had frequently seen on his computer screen. No, this could not be how they meet. "I-Ivan? I-I'm sorry, I-" "


Matthew Williams looked back down at the address scratched down in his pocket-sized planner. Even though he practically had the address memorized, he still wanted to make sure that he arrived at the correct place he and Ivan agreed to meet at. Against his fears, the taxi dropped the curly-haired man off in front of the right café and sped off before Matthew could change his mind and cower away from his first time meeting Ivan face to face. Matthew's heart fluttered in his chest as he dwelled over what he was about to do. Meeting strangers well, not a stranger per say, they have been talking for months now- he meets online wasn't something Matthew planned to do on a daily schedule, but he couldn't turn down the enchanting platinum blonde's idea of going on a real date. It took a lot of courage for Matthew to agree, he wasn't the most straight forward person after all. The violet eyed young man hesitated to take the last step in finally seeing Ivan face to face. Come on, he got this far. Now all he has to do is open that door and-

_Bam!_

Before Matthew could throw himself out of the way, his enemy of a door flew open and hit him directly in the face. He stumbled back on his clumsy feet, teetering back as he lost his balance. Matthew's arms swung around wildly as he tried to reclaim his balance, but due to gravity he began his journey of hitting the concrete. He shut his eyes tightly as his muscles tightened subconsciously to brace himself for the harsh impact.

But Matthew never met his definite end. Calloused fingers were wrapped all the way around one of his delicate wrists, holding him upright and saving him from the deafening fall. His safety line. Matthew stumbled to regain his footing and dignity as he kept his gaze on the ground below his feet instead of looking up at whoever saved him from falling flat on his ass. Ignoring his flaming cheeks, Matthew tugged his wrist closer to him, hinting for the man to let go now that he was upright and not in danger of anymore accidental injuries.

"I-I'm so so-sorry for th-that," The Canadian stuttered out once he was free from the stranger's strong grasp. His mouth slacked open as he looked up at who helped him. The man was taller than Matthew by a few inches, which was a great feat due to him being shy of 6 feet. He had light blonde hair, perhaps even considered white in the correct light, with bright lavender eyes peering down at Matthew and biceps ready to burst out of his shirt's sleeves. To add to his already intimidating demeanor due to his appearance, the stranger had a hook nose, as if he had broken it and never bothered to have it set correctly. All in all this man who helped Matthew looked like a fucking monster. It wasn't this man's size or looks that had Matthew in a daze. Hell, he has to deal with guys even bigger than the stranger on a daily basis. Inside of Matthew's chest, his heart faltered. Matthew knew who this was. He would never forget those eyes he had often seen on his computer screen. No, this could _not_ be how they meet. "I-Ivan? I-I'm sorry, I-"

"Matthew?"Ivan asked, his accent rich in his words. He tilted his head to the side as he peered down at the shorter man.

The Canadian nodded dumbly as he replied, "That's me. You… You remembered…" his voice trailing off, becoming no more than a whisper.

"How could I forget?" Ivan's smile broke away, "Oh! Are you okay?" Concern laced within his voice as he took a step closer to Matthew.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's no big deal, really. I've had worse." Matthew waved off Ivan's concerns. He could tell his words brought no reassurance to Ivan as he grimaced at the banged up blond. "I'm a hockey coach. This is, uh, nothing compared to what I go through every day," Matthew added quickly, letting out a chuckle to ease his nerves.

This seemed to do the trick as Ivan's tensed up shoulders relaxed and his usual smile brightened up his face and he nodded, "I see. So, um… ready to go inside?" He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he shifted his massive frame onto his other foot.

Matthew bobbed his head in agreement, "Y-yeah." He reached forward to grab the handle of the door, but Ivan stopped him.

"Here, I got it. I won't hit you with the door this time, promise." He nervously joked and cracked a smile.

"Oh, o-okay," Matthew stuttered as he shuffled past Ivan, who kept his eyes on his date's forehead as he checked for any sign of an injury from the door's impact. His lavender eyes were distracted from his mission as he lowered his gaze to Matthew's ass as he walked by.

After ordering their coffees, caramel mocha for Matthew and black with 2 packets of sugar for Ivan, the two gentlemen found an empty booth and settled down across from each other. Ivan kept glancing up in Matthew's direction as he sipped his drink. He couldn't believe his luck. Here he was sitting across from the angelic man he has only had contact with via online. The only downside was Ivan didn't know how to break the ice between them. He nibbled on his lower lip in thought. Talking to Matthew online was easier than in person. He wasn't able to see Ivan's intimidating features or hear his thick Russian accent. Maybe Matthew couldn't understand what he says through his accent and that's why he is keeping to himself? Ivan peeked up at Matthew to find him fiddling with the cup in his hand. This wasn't how Ivan expected their first 'real' date to go. Sure, he didn't expect love at first sight, but he did think that some words would be exchanged between the two of them. And not hitting his date in the face, of course.

"I-is there something on my face?" Matthew asked, paranoia creeping upon him as he smudged his mouth against his hoodie's sleeve. Oh man, he was sure he cleaned his face off after getting burgers after practice earlier that day. Having bits of lettuce and mustard on his face must be attractive. It hasn't even been 20 minutes into their date and Matthew has already embarrassed himself enough to bury himself under his covers and not escape his bed for the next few weeks until his embarrassment subsides. His boys were right. He is never going to find a decent man (with a decent dick – Mathias' words.) until he manages to get his clumsiness in check and learn how to have a halfway decent conversation with an attractive guy. Oh, and get rid of the stutter too.

_Come on, Mattie. It's not that hard. Just one sentence without stuttering. Berwald said the best way to get out of talking is to ask questions. Questions… Yeah I can do that… Okay, now what to ask… Would asking about his day be too pathetic? He probably sees me as a loser by now anyway. Focus, Mattie! This isn't the time to think negatively. You have one hunk of a man across from you who must see something in you if he's here and you're thinking of calling it quits?! Man up!_

"So, uh… What made you try online dating?" Matthew tried. The question wasn't too prodding and opened the door for conversation. Nice play.

Ivan snapped out of his thoughts and blinked at Matthew. He slid up the sleeves of his shirt to expose his muscular forearms as his eyebrows furrowed in thought. …Is that a tattoo on his arm? Matthew gulped at the revealed skin. Ivan was ripped. None of Matthew's team members came close to being as big as Ivan. He wondered if Ivan was bigger in other areas as well-

"My job doesn't give me a lot of free time to look for a partner." Ivan raised one of his bushy eyebrows and looked genuinely concerned for Matthew's sudden oncoming of blushing. Matthew widened his eyes and rested his knuckles on his cheeks, leaning forward in his chair to hide his reddening face. "Oh, sorry, I'll just…" The bigger man blushed as well and rolled down his sleeves, interpreting Matthew's stare as one of disapproval.

"O- oh, no, I- I didn't-"

Ivan nervously laughed it off as he ran a hand through his light blond locks, "No need to explain yourself. It's easy to cover up. So how did you get into online dating?"

_Bad move. Don't bring up the boys. Don't bring up the boys. Matthew, do NOT bring up the boys…_ "W-well," Matthew started. He lowered his eyes to his hands as he distracted his fingers by playing with a napkin, "A few… friends of mine talked me into it." _By setting up a profile for me and messaging a bunch of people without me knowing, you included._ Ivan didn't need to know that though. Matthew didn't regret getting to know Ivan better via chatting online, but he did feel a little guilty about not telling Ivan that he wasn't the one who messaged him in the first place. "So, um… I don't mean to b-be nosy or rude or anything, but I couldn't help but notice your accent…" Matthew trailed off; silently hoping Ivan would take the hint and begin talking again so Matthew wouldn't have to. Berwald was right, questions are key.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to bring it up," Ivan teased lightly, offering Matthew a bright smile to show he meant no harm, "I'm not Canadian. Born and raised in Russia." He smile broadened as interest sparkled in his lavender eyes.

"R-really?" Matthew perked up with interest, "A few guys on my team are Russian. Ever thought of playing hockey? With your stature, you'd make a great goalie!" Matthew hinted at, winking at Ivan when he mentioned his size. And there he goes, blabbering on about his team… again. This was just what he was trying to avoid. Now he has opened up a can of worms.

Ivan politely nodded on, encouraging Matthew to tell him about his hockey team. It was cute how the quiet man would open up when it came to hockey. His violet eyes shined brightly with enthusiasm and his honey blonde curls bounced with each sway of his head. Matthew's mouth wouldn't stop moving as he told Ivan about their latest win.

"O-oh, was I doing it again? Shit, I- I'm sorry." Matthew rushed to apologize for his ranting. His cheeks flushed as he looked down, snatching his coffee mug in his hands and taking a sip to occupy his mouth with anything besides talking. Ivan should have stopped him or interrupted. Matthew wouldn't have minded. He busied himself with slurping down his coffee and wished that his blunder wasn't enough to scare away the Russian.

Luck seemed to be on Matthew's side tonight as Ivan chuckled, higher pitched than what Matthew expected. The brawny blond was quick to reassure the Canadian as he said, "Don't be. It was… cute."

Cute. Matthew didn't want to be cute. Hockey players weren't cute. Or anything close to that. A pout found its way to Matthew's lips as he mumbled, "I'm not cute."

"What was that?" Ivan asked, coking his head to the side as he looked at Matthew.

"N- nothing!" He rushed out, forcing out a nervous laugh and lowering his gaze back down to his coffee in his hands. It wasn't as interesting (or as hot) as Ivan, but it was less nerve wracking to focus on inanimate object than a person. Especially if that person was tall and muscular and had such a sexy accent and-

_Focus, Matthew. Not now. You can fantasize about Ivan later._

"So," Matthew lamely tried to strike up a conversation again, "Do you, um, like hockey?"

What a conversation starter.

* * *

Just as Ivan parted his lips to speak up, a deafening crash was heard coming in the direction of the kitchen of the café. Workers swarmed around the source of noise like bees to cover up any traces of a spill and back to running the café smoothly. Only things weren't so easily fixed for Matthew, who was lapping at his sugary coffee during the time of the accident. Matthew was already on the twitchy side to begin with when he jumped in his seat, inhaling a gulp of his hot drink in the process. His epiglottis failed to close soon enough as some of the steamy liquid made its way down the wrong tube. Ivan was too distracted by the buzzing employees to notice Matthew's coughing, which was muffled by the hockey coach's hoodie sleeve to not cause a scene in front of his date. The last thing the blond needed was Ivan believing he wasn't even capable of sipping on coffee without finding a way to screw it all up.

After a couple more twitches of his diaphragm, Matthew's coughs failed to cease and increased in intensity, shaking the petite blonde's torso with each convulsion. The red sleeve still pressed against Matthew's mouth to shield his coughs. Only he was capable of knowing how desperate he was to rid his lungs of the unwelcomed liquid.

"So, Matthew, as I was saying-

M-Matthew? Are you okay?" Concern washed over Ivan's defined face as he gave Matthew his undivided attention, instead of assisting the employees in whatever spilled behind the bar. He rose up out of his seat, but Matthew held out his other hand to motion Ivan to stay put. His face was red from not only lack of fresh air, but embarrassment as well.

Ivan ignored Matthew's hand motions and waved down a barista and requested a glass of water for him. He took his spot across the table and murmured, "Here, take a sip of this. It should help."

Matthew clutched the glass in his hand and cautiously brought it up to meet his lips. He took a sip of the chilly water; his coughing subsided. But to take its place, wheezing followed after every breath Matthew took.

He was incapable of catching his breath; asking Ivan for help was out of the question. His nimble fingers fumbled inside his coat's pockets. Eyebrows furrowed as Matthew looked again. His inhaler was not with him. His panic stricken eyes shot up to Ivan, who was taken aback by the intensity in the blond's lavender eyes. The burly man's face lacked emotion as his façade fell over him. It was as if Ivan was a different person now as he peered over towards his wheezing date, asking him question after question about his quickly deteriorating condition.

"Can you breathe?"

A nod.

"Do you have any allergies?"

A shake of curls. No.

"…Do you have asthma?"

Another nod.

"Where is your inhaler, Matthew?"

No answer.

Ivan stood and rushed over to his date's side, squatted down to his level, and pressed two of his fingers on the side of his neck to check Matthew's pulse. His eyes left Matthew and stared at the clock, counting how many times he felt the man's blood pump through his pulmonary artery.

His blood pressure was low.

With no inhaler, Matthew was running out of options and fast. He fell forward onto Ivan and wheezed heavily. The cooled temperature of Ivan's shirt felt heavenly against his clammy forehead.

"Matthew," Ivan cooed, placing a calm hand on his shoulder, "You're going to be okay." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.

"_911, what is your emergency?"_

"I have a young man having an asthma attack with no inhaler on him. Blood pressure is 80 over 60. He is still breathing. Symptoms are wheezing, difficulty talking, he had uncontrollable coughing, but that has stopped, and is breathing hard."

"_Where are you right now?"_

Ivan calmly repeated the address of the café.

"_What is your name?"_

"Ivan Braginski."

"_Help is on the way."_

Ivan immediately hung up and reported what the dispatcher had told him. Matthew nodded his head and leaned more into the burly man. In return, Ivan pulled him closer to him, resting his head against Matthew's.

"Do you need anything while waiting for the ambulance?" A young barista asked, clearly concerned for the man in Ivan's arms.

"Caffeine. Any type of soda may help him," Ivan responded, his voice soft, yet stern. The young woman sped off towards the kitchen and came back quickly to assist the two men. She placed the cup full of soda on the table and requested that if Ivan needed anymore help, then to flag her down before she shuffled off to calm down the worried customers.

"Matthew, I need you to sit up now," Ivan prodded the weakened man in his arms to sit on his own. The shaken up blond would have pouted, but he was afraid closing his mouth would decrease the limited air he could receive. But he still removed himself from Ivan's shoulder and sat up. Ivan put a straw in the cup and beckoned Matthew to take a sip, "I know it's not the same as an inhaler, but the caffeine will help relax your airways."

Matthew looked up with worry at Ivan. He was skeptical, but it couldn't hurt to try and drink something… He sipped on the straw, sucking in the sugary drink in an effort to do anything to cease his asthma driven attack. That and so Ivan would allow Matthew to rest against him again. Somehow Matthew felt a tad better when he was enveloped in the stronger man's arms. His wheezing diminishing with each breath and he was able to gulp a breath or two of fresh air. Hopefully Ivan didn't mind Matthew leaning on him too much; this was their first date after all. Was such physical contact appropriate? Well, what is appropriate and what's not should be the last thing on his mind. After all, he was suffering from an asthma attack on their first date. That's not entirely something to expect.

He felt a tad guilty for Ivan having to put up with his foolishness of not remembering his inhaler. It should've been in his coat pocket! Unless…

Matthew mentally slapped himself on the forehead. His inhaler was left it in his gym bag. At the ice rink.

* * *

The sirens of the ambulance were soon detected by their ears as it steadily increased. Ivan murmured soothing words to the suffering blonde as two paramedics rushed into the coffee shop to aid Matthew in his asthma attack. The Russian was hesitant to pull away from Matthew in order for the paramedics to strap him in the stretcher and take him to the nearest Emergency room, but Ivan knew that it was necessary. With a chaste kiss to the blonde's forehead, he retracted himself from the situation and became another bystander in the café.

Once Matthew was prepared to be sent off to the E.R., one of the paramedics turned to Ivan and piped up, "Sir, will you be riding with us?"

Not trusting his voice, Ivan nodded and followed after the professionals and his date into the back of the ambulance. The ride to the hospital was stressing for both Matthew and Ivan. Feeling completely and utterly helpless, Ivan simply watched nervously as the paramedics connected Matthew to an oxygen mask and worked to relax the blonde's muscles to make breathing easier for him. Matthew's eyes fluttered up at Ivan as he reached out for the Russian's strong hand. Noticing his request, Ivan lightly smiled and enveloped the smaller, fragile hand in his own. They stayed connected by their hands for the rest of the ride.

Once they reached the hospital, Matthew was whisked away to the Emergency Room with Ivan in tow, lightly jogging in order to keep up with the rushing paramedics. The asthmatic blonde was removed from the stretcher and placed gently on the bed as nurses connected him to a monitor to record his heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing rate. As they furiously worked, Matthew kept his worried stricken eyes on Ivan, who returned the favor with his calmer violets. It was the best he could do to comfort the poor man as the nurses worked since being close enough to hold the Canadian's hand would only get him in the way. Along with keeping eye contact, Ivan also mouthed sweet words to Matthew, who blushed lightly.

One of the nurses removed the oxygen mask from Matthew's mouth and held a puffer to his lips while the other placed the IV into the crook of his elbow. Matthew efficiently inhaled the medication as he was pricked by the needle. He cringed and scrunched up his face as the needle was firmly placed in his vein. Ivan took a step forward to comfort Matthew's pain, but was stopped by one of the nurses before he could get too close. This brought a ghost of a smile to Matthew's lips to see how irritated Ivan looked in not being able to comfort him. The slight smile eased Ivan's urgency as he resumed in merely watching with the occasional mouthing of words to the blonde.

Hours droned on for the two men as they waited for Matthew to recover. With the assistance of the I.V. dripping hydrocortisone directly into the asthmatic blonde, the process of being able to breathe on his own and leave the dreaded hospital was underway. Soon, if everything went according to plan, Matthew would be able to leave the emergency room.

* * *

The release papers were quickly signed and returned to the doctor as soon as they were held out to Matthew. He was more than eager to leave and end the all too embarrassing date with Ivan. Oh, how he wished he could reverse time and prevent this predicament from occurring, alas, he did not have that sort of power. Matthew shakily stood up and stretched his taut muscles, noticing Ivan's lavender eyes lingering on his slim frame. This brought the tinge of a smile to his lips as he softly said, "It's not nice to stare, you know."

A light blush dusted over his cheeks as Ivan peeled his eyes away and replied, "Sorry, couldn't help myself."

"You ready to get out of here?" The curly blonde asked with a smile still present on his stretched lips. With a light bob of his head, Ivan stood up as well and interlinked his fingers with Matthew's.

"So, heh, I'm really sorry for… what happened," Matthew apologized sincerely once the taxi arrived at the familiar café. He looked up at Ivan, features etched with worry as he silently prayed that the man would give him a second chance to try again.

With a deep laugh, Ivan replied with a smile, "Nonsense, can't say it was the best date I've been on," Matthew winced at his words, "but I can't say it was the worse either. Perhaps we could take a stab at this again?"

The Canadian's eyes brightened up and his lips strained against his blushing cheeks. Not trusting his voice to answer, he only nodded with a bob of his head, blonde curls bouncing as well.

"Get out of the car, Romeo," the taxi driver interrupted with a sneer.

"So-sorry!" Matthew quickly apologized, stuttering over his words. He only got a roll of tired eyes in return.

"I guess that's my queue to leave," Ivan stated with a twinge of sadness laced through his words, "Until next time?"

"Of course," replied the blonde. With nothing more to say, Ivan opened the worn down car door and placed a boot on the slippery street below. "W-wait!" Matthew cried out, reaching out for Ivan, fingers wrapping around the sleeve of his coat. Ivan turned to question him, but was met with Matthew's lips pressed against his in a chaste kiss instead. His heart pounded in his chest and he fought back the temptation of allowing his lips to linger on the velvety soft lips of the Canadian's.

As soon as the kiss had begun, Matthew ended it and beckoned Ivan to leave. "Goodbye," his soft voice rang out, falling only of Ivan's ears before the car door was shut.

As the taxi began to drive away, Matthew twisted his torso to look out the back window towards the man who had saved his life. He was met with the familiar broad grin of Ivan before the yellow vehicle raced down the road. Ivan's form grew smaller and smaller until Matthew strained his eyes to make out the silhouette. Once he was no longer able to depict Ivan within the mass of blurs, he turned back around and promised himself that once he returned to his home the first thing he would do is check his Skype for the little green dot next to a certain username he has grown fond of.


End file.
